popsicle stick
by AGENT Kuma-chan
Summary: Xion picked up her treasures one by one. A shell. A pebble. A popsicle stick. Mementos that she was alive, that she had lived. -Xion, Roxas, Axel


**Title:** Popsicle stick

 **Prompt:** losing your memory by ryan star

 **Character/Pairing:** Xion, Axel, Roxas, Namine

 **A/N:** I love the sea salt trio (and I'm glad Xion has been getting more fandom love recently! I remember when no one liked her). ALSO IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I PLAYED 365/2, PLEASE FORGIVE DISCREPENCIES

 **Summary:** _Xion picked up her treasures one by one. A shell. A pebble. A popsicle stick. Mementos that she was alive, that she had lived._

...

...

...

...

A shell. A pebble. A losing popsicle stick.

Xion's fingers traced over the treasures in her drawer, silently naming them as she went. At the last one, she stopped. _Try again_.

The irony of it didn't miss her. It was still precious all the same. She picked up the shell, a survivor from the set Roxas gave her. Placing it next to her ear, she could hear the ocean. The gentle lull of the water as it ebbed from the beach. The sand was wet against her toes and—this wasn't her memory.

Her time on the beach had been shorter, simpler. A solitary sunset, a deep whiff of the sea. Xion never felt the sand on her bare skin, never ran under the hot summer sun. No, those were _his_ memories. She grimaced, putting the shell down.

The stranger, Riku, had been right then. Sora's memories were drowning her own out. Did Roxas feel that way too? Did he ever dream of things he'd never seen, remember memories that weren't his?

Did he ever wake up in the middle of the night, a sense of loss pounding in his heart? Xion wasn't sure who that feeling was for—for that other boy or for herself.

(And she was losing herself, she could feel it.)

Her hands curled around the popsicle stick, the one memory that was entirely hers. The taste of sea-salt ice cream lingered on her tongue, the vivid reds of sunset blinded her eyes. Roxas swatted at her head, teasing her.

 _Stop it,_ she protested, laughing. Axel joined in, attacking Roxas.

 _No fair,_ Roxas grumbled, pushing them both away. _That's two against one_.

 _Life's not fair,_ Axel grinned.

 _That's_ —what had Roxas said? She strained to recall, his voice disappearing into static.

 _You'll disappear._

Unbidden, Namine's voice came instead. The blonde girl had stared at her sadly, knowingly. As though she had no choice.

(And did she, really, when it came down to it?)

 _No, you'll be erased_.

Xion swallowed, putting the popsicle stick down. Erased, like she never was, like she never existed. Like Axel never became her friend.

Like Roxas never called her name.

Would they come here one day, find a room filled with dust? An empty room, a forgotten room, just one in a million. She wouldn't even be a ghost of a memory, a fragment of a fragment.

But her treasures, they'd still exist. Her popsicle stick would still sit here, a losing stick that no one should have saved. Axel would pick it up, amused that someone would keep such a useless thing. Roxas would laugh, _Why would an empty room have this?_

And maybe they'd never remember, never even consider this stick belonged to a friend once upon a time.

But she'd still remember, and she'd still know. And that stick would still exist and maybe, even if she wasn't supposed to exist, wasn't supposed to be, maybe that one memory would still live.

Maybe, that one sign that she existed, that she had lived and laughed and fought and loved would still be there.

Xion smiled and shut the drawer, keeping the seashell with her. A final look and she left her room, closing the door carefully behind her.

Namine had been right, there wasn't much of a choice. Her future was set in stone. She'd save Roxas at the cost of herself.

But there was nothing to be sad about. Where she was going, she wasn't going alone. Her hand touched the shell in her pocket.

(A final memory: Roxas's face, worn with worry when she woke up from her coma. Axel grinned, his expression half relief, half joy.

 _We're friends,_ they uttered when she stared at them confused. _Of course we'd worry._ )

Her hand curled around the seashell tightly.

No, being friends meant you were never alone. Even being erased couldn't change that.


End file.
